Page 14 of Fixing Emilee

“George, calm down. Don’t get to upset. Remember you have a bad heart, sweetie,” her nana tells him. Even though she is talking to him, her eyes never leave Mr. Clark’s face. “I’m sure this nice man doesn’t want a lawsuit on his hands, so he has been investigating everything Parker has brought to his attention. He has been talking to all the teachers and looking into everything. I’m sure he also has a solid plan for how we will move forward. Am I correct?” His eyes widen, and I swear his face goes from purple to pale white within seconds.

“Y-y-yes, ma’am, you are correct. I have been investigating and taking everything very seriously. We will have a plan in place before Emilee returns to school. There is no need to get the law involved,” he says, fidgeting in his seat. It’s easy to see that the threat of a lawsuit is rattling him as it should. Everyone on the payroll has walked past Christian and Vanessa harassing Emilee and just looked the other way. They never stopped them, wrote them up, or even told him. The school is in major damage control mode and is trying to save its ass.

When her grandfather speaks up, he halts any further stammering from Mr. Clark. “No, you will have a plan in place by this afternoon. As you know, there is a school board meeting this afternoon, and we are the first on the list of issues that need to be discussed. Depending on how that meeting goes, we will decide on our next plan of action.”

I want to ask them about the lawyer Levi told me about, but there’s a reason they haven’t brought it up yet, and I want to watch this play out. Turning to her grandfather, I ask, “Sir, would it be alright if I also attended the meeting?” I hope that Emilee will be there, and I can see her. Maybe I could get her to talk to me or just listen to the damn recording.

“I think it would be great if you could be there, son,” her nana answers instead of her grandfather.

“Parker, I think it’s time you get back to class,” Mr. Clark says. Looking back at him, I can see that the fact her grandparents and I are creating an alliance makes him nervous. I smile at him and let out a little laugh loving that we are rattling him because he deserves it.

“I agree, son. We just wanted to thank you for what you are doing and let you know that we are here to help you. Also to let you know that Emilee is okay. I’m sure we will be talking soon and seeing you even sooner,” her grandfather says, patting me on my leg. We all stand up simultaneously, and I hug them before leaving the room.

* * *

Shaking my head, I notice I’m sitting next to Emilee.When the fuck did I cross the room and sit down?She is leaning forward with her head in her hand, her hair is cutting off my view of her beautiful face, which pisses me off. I ball my hands up, putting them in my hoodie pocket to stop myself from reaching out and moving her hair. As I take a deep breath, her scent is pulled into my lungs, making a low groan come from my throat. Oh, how I missed the smell of her. Mrs. Crawford is saying something at the front of the class, but it sounds like a low hum.

I’m losing the battle to keep my hands to myself. As the bell rings, my control snaps, and I reach out to touch her, but she’s gone. I probably look like an idiot sitting here with my arm outstretched, but I don’t care. For a brief second, I get pissed. She can’t just keep fucking running from me. I know she has to care about me as much as I care for her. The hurt in her eyes wouldn’t be there if she didn’t fucking care. If she would just let me explain, she would know the truth, but instead, she is dead set on continuing to believe the fucking lies fed to her by those assholes. I calm down as quickly as I get pissed because it’s not Emilee’s fault. It’s mine. I remind myself of all the times I could have said something. I had plenty of opportunity to tell them both to fuck off, but I was a coward and didn’t do it.

Emilee will never hold an ounce of blame for what happened, so she doesn’t deserve me to be sitting here pissed at her. She is doing what she has to in order to get through it all. Standing up, I notice that, in my daze, I never took my bag off my back. Walking out, I head to my locker, hoping she will show up at it. She would never have come here in the past, but now that things are different, maybe she will. Leaning up against her locker, I search the sea of faces passing me without paying attention to anyone. I’m only looking for her beautiful brown eyes. When the bell rings, and she hasn’t shown up, I know she isn’t going to. Sighing, I push off the wall pulling out my phone. I need to let Levi know what happened.

Me: First off, fuck you for not telling me she was going to be here. Second, she ran out of class right after the bell rang. I’m sorry. Can you check on her? I’ve been waiting by our locker, hoping she would show up, but she didn’t, and I don’t think I should be the one to go find her.

Levi: Fuck, sorry, I forget to tell you. Damn it, I’ll message her, and see if Tiffani will check the bathrooms. Sorry man.

Me: It’s okay, just let me know if she’s okay or not. I really am sorry. I didn’t think she would have that bad of a reaction to me. I know I fucked up, but I was hoping the first time I saw her again, she would let me explain.

Me: Quick question, where is she eating lunch?

Levi: Parker, everything will be fine. It’s just going to take time. With me… oh shit, I didn’t think about that either.

Sitting down at my desk, I grin at my phone.

Me: I take it you didn’t tell her we eat lunch together now, huh? What, are you embarrassed by me?

Levi: Wipe the smirk off your fucking face. No, I didn’t say anything to her. She shuts down when we mention you. Shit.

Okay, that fucking stings. The bell rings, and my math teacher starts talking about what is written on the board, but I can’t stop thinking about how just my name hurts her. Fuck. My phone is still in my hand under the desk. I exit out of mine and Levi’s conversation, pulling up Emilee’s.

Me: Butterfly, I understand you are still hurting, but believe me, I didn’t betray you. Please meet me at lunch in our spot. I have something you need to listen to. Please just hear me out, and if you still want nothing to do with me after listening to it, then I will accept that and leave you alone. One more chance, Butterfly, that’s all I’m asking for.

My eyes never leave my screen as I pray that she replies. “Mr. West, whatever you have in your lap can not be more important than math. Eye’s up here, please.”It is way more important than fucking math.I slip my phone inside my hoodie. Even without a reply, I will be there waiting for my girl, hoping she will finally listen to me.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The only sound filling the empty bathroom is my labored breathing. My heart is racing, beating so hard it’s causing a physical ache in my chest. Placing my hand on my chest, I beg it to calm down. The room starts to spin, making my stomach turn again, and I taste the bile in my throat. Squeezing my eyes shut, my chest heaves with attempts to get my lungs to stop seizing up on me, but it doesn’t work. My body is covered in a sheen of sweat even though I can feel the coldness from the dirty floor seeping through my pants. My hair is wet and sticking to my neck, irritating me more. He’s just one guy. How come I can look at them and not freak out this bad, but with him, my whole world crumbles around me?

Putting my arms around my chest, I squeeze it, hoping to help ease the pain and keep me together. Laying my head on my knees, I try to focus on anything but Parker’s betrayal. Concentrating on the quiet around me, water drips from a broken sink outside the stall door. The sound of the other kids heading to class is faint, unaware that I’m completely losing it in here, tucked in the back behind a toilet that smells like someone needs to clean it.

The tardy bell rings, cutting through the silence. I should push off the floor and head to class, but I can’t. How can I do that when I can’t get air into my body? Another bead of sweat rolls down my back, reminding me that my hair is still plastered to my neck. Pulling my bag to me, I try to find a hair tie, but the more I run my hand along the bottom of the bag, the more pissed off I get. The damn thing is practically empty. Why can’t I find it? Giving up, I turn the bag upside down, dumping the little bit of stuff in it on the floor.

Moving everything around, I don’t see a hair tie, but I know I put one here this morning. As I move my journal, something shiny sticks out between the pages catching my attention. Laying half inside is a paperclip that has been straightened out fully. How did that get in here? Nana took everything sharp out of my bag last week. Forgetting the hair tie, I pull the paperclip out. As soon as the cool metal touches my palm, A familiar calm comes over me.

Do it. You know it will help ease your pain. Just one little cut and you will feel better,the voice inside my head whispers as my gaze stays glued on my hands. This voice has been my only companion over the last couple of months. Anytime my emotions get the tiniest bit out of control, it pops up, reminding me that I can feel calm without putting in any work. I have worked hard to banish the voice and not listen to it. I straighten my legs out in front of me as they cramp up, lean my head back, and shut my eyes.

Slowing my breathing down, I start counting, ending at thirteen. It usually works, but not now. The voice gets louder, my chest gets tighter, and the air disappears from the room. The paperclip sitting in my hand feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, not letting me forget that I have a way to stop this spiral. Sighing, I pull my hand up, I place the clip hard against the inside of my right wrist. The pressure of it resting against my skin makes my heart slow down. I can pull the smallest amount of air into my lungs. I don’t move it or press harder. I just hold it there.

A bang echoes through the empty room as the door is thrown open, hitting the tile wall behind it. I pull my legs back to my chest, hoping to make myself small enough to hide. While my legs move, my hands do not. I continue to push the clip into my wrist. I watch the feet of whoever just walked in as they move toward me. Holding my breath, I hope it’s not Vanessa but whoever it is does their business and then leaves.

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